Breaking Point
by cuz-CM's-awesome
Summary: Two years ago Stiles left his friends and family behind to go to University and get away from the craziness of Beacon Hills. However he's gotten himself into a situation and needs help, he turns to the one person he thinks can save him even though their relationship has always been a little rocky.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf and I'm not making any profit off this story. **

**Summary: Two years ago Stiles left his friends and family behind to go to University and get away from the craziness of Beacon Hills. However he's gotten himself into a situation and needs help, he turns to the one person he thinks can save him even though their relationship has always been a little rocky. **

**Warning: Graphic Violence up ahead. **

**So I haven't written anything for a long time considering I've had the worst writers block and nothing seems to be coming together as I would like. However I just got into Teen Wolf, like only a week ago and I've already watched all the episodes. And I'm totally a Sterek fan…it was bound to happen. So this is my first try at it, hopefully it turns out alright. **

**Would love everyone's input, so please drop by and leave a comment. That's it for my long-ass author's note, hope you enjoy the story! **

**… **

Stiles let out a choking laugh as he sat on the forest floor, his back pressed against an old oak, which was the only thing keeping him upright. He couldn't help it; the situation that he found himself in was utterly hilarious in an annoyingly ironic sort of way.

He had left Beacon Hills to get away from all the crazy, murderous, supernatural creatures, which always seemed to want to kill him and his friends. He thought that by putting a few States between him and his hometown, he would be able to get away from it all.

He had been wrong.

Stiles huffed as he put a hand over the wound at his side. "What are the chances?" he asked himself quietly.

Moving away from his friends and family had been hard. One of the hardest things he had ever had to do but he just couldn't take it anymore. Being possessed by a demon and trying to destroy everything he'd held dear had tipped him over the edge. It didn't help that their next year at school hadn't been any easier, though in a place like Beacon Hills, he really shouldn't have expected anything else.

Still after everything with the deadpool had gone down, and they had once again solved the mystery and saved the day, Stiles knew that he'd had enough. He spent the rest of his high school life, doing everything he could to get a scholarship and move away to a good school.

He had obviously accomplished that, and yet apparently it hadn't mattered. Everything he had worked for had just been turned upside down by one single idiotic move on his part. He had spent four years successfully avoiding being turned into any creature with glowing eyes, dripping fangs and sharp claws but here, thousands of miles away from his home, that was no longer the case.

Stiles looked down for the first time, staring at his bloody, ripped t-shirt. He removed his hand with a gasp of pain and carefully pulled it up to expose the bite mark that was still dripping with blood.

An Alpha's bite. He had figured it out to late, that the charming and cute guy he had agreed to go out on a date with was actually a blood thirsty Alpha. The red eyes had given it away as Stiles had leaned in for a kiss. He had tried to escape, had gone running through the trees hoping to lose the wolf but he wasn't fast enough.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, but apparently he was drawn to supernatural folk, or maybe it was the other way around. It didn't matter now anyways, since the bite was either going to kill him or turn him into one of them.

Taking a deep, calming breath he pushed himself to his feet with only a whimper of pain. There was no use sitting here hating himself, he needed to get back to his apartment. He didn't feel like spending the entire night in the woods, especially if the bite didn't turn him but ended up killing him instead. He wanted to be at home in his soft bed, pigging out on junk food and watching classic superhero movies. Now that was a way better way to go.

Stiles made himself move and started on his slow, painful walk home.

…

Stiles moved through the forest, running at a pace that should have made him breathless but which he barely broke a sweat. Branches scrapped at his skin as he moved past, like someone reaching out to grab him. He had no control. He knew what he was doing but the wolf had possession of his body, not him.

It hurt to keep his mind as clear as he could. To still be Stiles and have some knowledge of what was going on rather than letting the wolf take over completely. After dealing with so many werewolves back home he thought he would have better control over himself when the first full moon had risen.

Yet again he had been wrong.

It had taken all of three minutes for the wolf to seize control of his mind after the moon had risen. It had taken only two minutes more to break out of the chains Stiles had wrapped around himself and the support beam in his basement apartment. He guessed he had done a shoddy job; it was hard without any help.

Then the wolf had been out of the basement and the house that Stiles shared with four other boys from University. He was grateful the wolf had chosen to run outside rather than attack any of his sleeping friends.

That was a small comfort, now though as the wolf ran through the forest following a scent trail, Stiles just prayed that he didn't hurt anyone before morning. He could feel himself losing his grip on the very little mind control he had left. It was a struggle he wasn't going to win, but that didn't make the letting go any easier.

The last thing he remembered before the wolf took full control was laughter and shouting, and the burning smell of a campfire nearby.

…

Stiles woke up with a grunt; he was lying with his face in the dirt and a metallic taste in his mouth. He pushed himself backwards so that he was kneeling and looked down at his hands.

He gagged, they were covered in blood, so were his arms, up until just past his elbows. He remembered the laughter he had heard right before he lost control and had to fight down panic that rose in his chest. He looked down at his torso and gaped. It wasn't just his arms, he was drenched in blood, his t-shirt was practically hanging from his body by a thread, and there was a wound that was slowly healing on his stomach, like someone had stabbed him.

Dizzyingly Stiles got to his feet. He was in a small clearing and the smell of blood was strong all around him, his senses picked up something behind him but he was reluctant to turn around. He was pretty sure he knew what was behind him, the smells didn't lie but it just couldn't be true. He could have done what he knew he had.

He turned, slowly, bracing himself. But no amount of readying himself for what was behind him could have prepared him for it.

His gut twisted at the scene before him, he fell to his knees and promptly threw up everything that had been in his stomach.

Bodies. Dead, bloody bodies littered the ground around him, torn to shreds by a killer…a monster.

Tears streamed down his face. What had he done? There were four of them, two girls and two boys, all around his age. They had come out to enjoy a night of fun and release with each other and had ended up in a situation straight from hell.

Stiles pulled himself over to the body closest to him, one of the girls. Her eyes were wide open; she had died terrified, begging for her life. His heart hammered in his chest, he didn't know what to do, he only wished that he was dead too.

…

Stiles stared up at the huge, newly built house…it was more of a mansion really. He didn't know what had brought him here exactly, he needed help. Needed to learn how to control the beast within but he couldn't go to his best friend. Not when he had never taken a life before, not in all the years he had been a werewolf.

He had so much strength, it was the very thing that made him an Alpha, and Stiles…he had murdered four healthy, young lives full of potential on the very first night of being a werewolf. He couldn't face Scott after what he had done, and he could never do it again. He would rather someone put him down then have the chance to kill again.

Derek would help him. Derek wouldn't judge him, not about this anyways.

Letting out a low growl, Stiles made his way up to the front porch of the house; to ask the help of a man he hadn't seen in over two years.


End file.
